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20 December, 2014

We get on better, it would seem, when we are away from each other and have less than 5 minutes interaction in 24 hours.

Hubby left Tuesday morning and returned home Friday evening. I left both teens home on their first day of summer holidays.

There was washing up that I expected them to do but they didn’t. There was drying up to have been put away but it wasn’t.

Instead my daughter had gone for a sleepover and our son asked if we could leave for youth as soon as I arrived home.

Having had a long day in work I was tired, talked out, hungry and in need of a sit down and coffee. The youngest boy would have to wait to leave as hubby had suggested we go in together and spend the couple of hours during youth together.

I kid you not, the door opened by hubby and wasn’t closed by him before he rails that the house stank of cat shit and he forcibly closed the door behind him.

He continued in his attacking tone, stomped around and then disappeared upstairs. I finished my coffee and told our boy to go and check if hubby was coming.

Apparently hubby was “waiting” for us. Who’d have known! He came down and strode to the front door. I didn’t move. I said I wasn’t going. There had been no apology or softening of his tone.

Instead he turned around them and said he’d just driven for 2 hours. He wasn’t going to drive and stay out for youth. Then he stomped into the kitchen and started the washing up.

I took the boy into the city for youth. He was a quiet supportive kid who passed no judgement on me. Then I went to my office where I cried.

My sister overseas sent a text unexpectedly with a bible verse. I let her know of my anguish.

I wanted the hurt myself. I wanted to just die. To end… I hurt.

I then went to visit a friend who had bowel cancer surgery last week who was admitted back to hospital with a severe reaction to her antibiotics. For some perspective.

We did a taxi run for her daughter and made our way home. I’m glad I’d turned the outside light on when I left as the house was in darkness except for our bedroom.

When I eventually went to bed hubby was watching his iPad. I switched off the light and curled up. I felt very alone and unwanted.

This morning his iPad blared with an audible Google search request. No apology for startling me awake. I dozed.

After a while I got up. Made a coffee. Went back to bed. Silence between us as he watched his iPhone with headphones in.

I got up and our son and I started packing up the eldest’s PS4 and hubby went up on the roof to play with lights.

Our boy said he’d fall. I envisioned hubby falling off our roof and dispassionately calling an ambulance. My heart is an ice block towards this man.

I packed some things for the eldest into the car. Went into the shed and grabbed a box cutter. I drew out the sticking blade and ran it over my left wrist. Nothing. I did it again. Firmer. Nothing.

I threw the box cutter down in frustration. Now as I glance at my wrist I see two tiny paper cut lines. As I drove away from the house the depression deepens to suffocation.

I want to die. I’ll take my pills. I’ll cut. I’ll leave. I’ll park the car and walk away. I think of friends I could go to and dismiss the thought. They’ll be busy. They’ll be out. I don’t know their new address.

It’s my work Christmas dinner tonight. Hubby and I were meant to be going together. Bugger that. I want nothing to do with him.

I just handed over the last of my cash to pay for it. I don’t want to go myself. I have to collect my daughter from our local carols on the way home. I don’t even want to go there to spend the time around people.

Happy Christmas to me. What for?…



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